Hamilton Drabbles

Truth

"Tell me the truth," Madison looked at the man sitting in his chair. Jefferson rarely lost composer, so when he practically screamed and flailed after he had touched his side, Madison was more than intrigued. His lips quirked upwards as he asked, "Are you ticklish?" Jefferson scoffed from where he sat.

"Ticklish? Me? James, I think all that time you spent with Hamilton writing those essays made you loose your sanity." Despite his words, he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, trying to act nonchalant. He smirked at his friend as he made his way over to him.

When he slung an arm around his shoulder, he noticed that Thomas flinched. "Why so jumpy? I mean, for someone who's not ticklish, you sure act like you are." Jefferson let out an exasperated sigh, pushing out his chair in an attempt to flee. "You're being ridiculOUS!" The end of his sentence turned into a screech as Madison wiggled his fingers into his sides.

Jefferson laughed, struggling in the other man's hold. Madison let out a laugh of his own, "Who would've thought that Thomas Jefferson would be this ticklish!" he exclaimed.

"I'm nohohot!" he denied through his laughter. "Wow, and you have a laugh that doesn't sound like a sarcastic guy choking! Who knew?" Jefferson twisted around to face him, "Excuhuhuse mehehehe?" Just then the door opened, and a confused Hamilton stopped dead in his tracks.

"Uh, I'll just, be on my way." He grabbed the papers from the desk by the door, smirking, "And don't think I'll be forgetting about this." With that, he closed the door, leaving the two men alone. Jefferson glared down at Madison, "This is all your fault."